


Blind

by missbeizy



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:07:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2767544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbeizy/pseuds/missbeizy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy has something to teach Elijah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blind

Billy picked the spot. It was a favorite of his—if they could already claim favorites just three months into shooting. But he had insisted that they come back to the pub three or four times already in a single month, so a favorite it was branded.

Elijah liked it, too, which said something, and worked out marvelously, because in light of the closeness between the four Hobbits, having similar likes along the nightlife line just made it that much better. Work and play all squished together into one big putty ball of good times.

The place looked even better after several turns of whiskey. Billy settled into the lovely tingling feeling; perfectly aware of the huge, sloppy grin he maintained for little or no reason; perfectly aware of Elijah's cream-on-brown-iced-with-blue appearance.

"I hate it," Elijah was saying, face all cutely scrunched around a casual yeah-it-sucks expression, looking ten times the boy.

"That so?"

"'S'the first thing everybody says. 'Look at those eyes!' 'Fuck, are those contacts?' 'Damn, those can't be real.' And then when I convince them that they are, it's gushy and fucked up and, you know."

"Well," Billy started sympathetically, accent thick because of the liquor, eyelids bobbing just a tad slower than usual over the clear green of his eyes. "It's the firs' thing people see, ya know? So it's the firs' thing they reaction to, like, whoa, lookit that."

"I know," Elijah replies around a long swallow, flickering said eyes over Billy's smaller frame. "I know. It's only helped as far as getting hired goes, but yeah. Frustrating."

Billy nodded, not knowing how much more he could supply along those lines, his eyes straying out to the dance floor where Dom was repeatedly dragging Sean Astin back from the edge of it. He kept waving Dom off, mouthing 'no,' and Dom kept laughing and pulling at him, trying to rope him into some dance that involved just enough gyration to keep Dom interested. Billy looked back at Elijah, who had followed his line of sight, the paler boy's eyes moving over Dom and Sean.

"You sure use them, though," he said.

Elijah paused in mid-sip, swallowed, a comical look spreading his features.

"What? My eyes?"

"Absolutely. You don't know how much you stare, my friend. Look right through people."

Elijah's drawn-together eyebrows pinched further in a look of concern.

"Really?" he asked, trying to sound amused.

"Sure," Billy answered, as if it were the most natural idea in the world to voice. "After we met for the first time, Dom comes round to me, says he thinks you were eyeing him up. I said to him what're you on about? and tried to explain that there's a reason people like you have those kind of eyes. 'S'just that, in some cases, it's _real_ obvious."

Elijah paused, snorted with a giggle, and tipped his beer bottle in the direction of Billy's drink.

"I think you've had one too many, my Hobbit friend."

Billy noted poignantly that Elijah didn't hesitate over the idea of checking out Dom.

"Right, then. So you _were_ eyeing him up."

Elijah laughed, shook his head, eyes on the table ticking briefly to the dance floor.

"No, not that I recall." Comical and boyish again.

"Not your type?" Eyebrow raised.

"Ah," Elijah exhaled, smirking. "We're getting down to it, aren't we, hm."

"'S'just a question, Lijah."

"Hypothetically speaking."

Billy gestured with his glass. "Of course."

"I think we're too much alike for me to see him like that."

"Ooh," Billy breathed. "You're one of those."

"Well, yeah, if that's how you want to put it."

The waitress refreshed their drinks.

After the pause, Billy found himself keeping track of Elijah's eyes. He watched Dom trying to show Sean how to do the hip-shaking thing, spluttered a laugh around a mouthful of single malt, and then looked back at Elijah.

"But the eye thing," he said, bringing the topic back round, allowing the alcohol to think for him.

"Right."

"You're a verrah visual person."

"I...guess."

Billy gave a thoughtful shrug, mouth quirking up then down, and Elijah's eyes were drawn to the combination of movement that it sent through Billy's shirt collar—which then drew his eyes to the leather strip around Billy's neck—which then drew his eyes to the chest hairs showing through the half-open front of the shirt.

"Ever consider closing them and, you know, letting your other senses do the work?"

Elijah's eyebrows shot up at that and he took his gaze from Billy's chest and planted it firmly on the liquid green of the Scot's eyes—which, he decided, wasn't much better in helping out concentration department, and didn't go so far in discouraging the warm-fuzzy-feelings-down-south department, either.

"Not quite following," he said honestly, though his tone had changed from amused to something nearly flirtatious, and he had become very aware of his body.

Billy shrugged and pushed his empty glass away. The thick glass on wood sound prickled down Elijah's arms. "You're probably not interested."

And of course that only made Elijah interested. He chuckled, eyebrows expressive again, body posture shifting with the sudden flush that spilled up the back of his neck.

Billy met his eyes directly and Elijah immediately looked away, peeling back the label on his beer bottle—which he realized he had been tearing at the whole time. Billy grinned to himself.

_Or maybe you are_ , he thought.

"Wanna get out of here?"

There was a frenzy of movement under Elijah's skin and he sat up, nodding without giving a thought to it, going for his wallet. He tossed a few bills on the table. Billy stood and shrugged on his jacket. 

Elijah squeezed his way through the crowd on the dance floor and tugged on Sean's jacket sleeve, muttering something quick and loud in his ear. Sean nodded and then leaned in close to Dom, who gave Elijah a wave and then tried to drag Sean back to dancing.

In the car, after five full minutes of silence, Elijah turned his head, chuckling.

"He does know Astin's married, right?"

"Of course he does."

Elijah snickered, shaking his head. Tapped his fingers in an absent rhythm on the passenger door; watched the streetlights streak Billy with light-dark-light-dark. The ride seemed to take for ages. When they were finally in the house, tossing coats on the couch, Elijah wondered what exactly Billy had been going on about in the restaurant.

And then he realized that he and Billy were alone at Billy's place, which had only happened a handful of times. And he wondered if his coming here meant he had agreed to some unspoken thing. Because normally the line "Wanna get out of here?" muttered in a low, husky voice indicated something more.

Besides that, there was a low vibratory hum between his ears and a lick of warmth in his belly that kept refreshing itself every time he really _looked_ at Billy. There was something very intent in those eyes; green as the Scottish hills, Elijah waxed poetically to himself. Which made him want to giggle, but he stifled that and settled for flopping onto Billy's couch.

Billy messed around near the stereo on the other side of the room and Elijah got up the nerve to say something while Billy's back was turned.

"What was all that back in the pub?"

"The closing your eyes thing?"

"Mm."

Billy shrugged, flipping through a few CDs—scanning the track list and then putting them aside in a neat stack. "It's simple." He slipped in a CD and a deliciously hard, heavy song began, but at such a low volume that the bass line was all Elijah could make out.

"I still have no idea what we're talking about," Elijah said, chuckling, though he sort of did have some idea, because it couldn't be normal, in light of the fact that it dovetailed off talking about whether or not he found Dom attractive.

Billy circled the chair and coffee table and came to stand just in front of Elijah. Elijah's eyes ticked up at him, failing miserably in his attempt to look casual.

"Here, I'll show you," Billy sighed, the faintest impatient edge making Elijah nervous again. He lifted his hand slowly so Elijah could follow the movement and trailed the pad of his middle finger along Elijah's bottom lip. Blinking, Elijah blushed, the pink blotching his cheeks prettily.

He gave Billy a _what the hell_ sort of look that fell short of its goal and came off more _oh god that felt nice_. 

"Now. Close your eyes and don't concentrate."

Billy gave him several seconds to clear his mind. The room was splotches of black-shaded color and explosions of white behind Elijah's eyelids. In the midst of that nothingness he felt Billy's fingertip; felt it all the way through, the tiny ridges, the ghost of a nail very close; and he felt the flesh of his own lip keenly. The shiver that went through him from the touch was easily three times the length of the previous one. And it was more than obvious in the redoubled effort of his flush and in the sudden breath he took that Billy could no doubt feel on his finger.

He opened his eyes and saw Billy smiling in a very unsettling way.

"See? And that's just one little fingertip," Billy said, waggling the finger.

Elijah opened his mouth but nothing came out. Chuckling and giving a thoughtful shrug of his shoulders, Billy's fingers leaned in again and Elijah instinctively closed his eyes. 

"And we could...well, here—" His fingers deftly and feather-soft on Elijah's earlobe, skimming a slow curve all the way up his ear. "Or, maybe—" Again those fingertips taking the silky, sensitive path that ran from behind Elijah's ear up the back of his neck. The riffs of shivers layered one over the other until Elijah found them unbearable; and the not knowing where Billy was going to touch next, the having no indication whatsoever to predict from, left him holding his breath.

And with sudden, painful clarity, he knew exactly what Billy had been talking about.

"Never, ahhm... Never..." He didn't have the words.

Billy's hand cupped his neck, fingers pressing into the soft part at the back of his skull, and he closed his eyes again, neck and chest swelling with a sudden rush of breathing that left his stomach tense.

"I didn't think so," Billy said quietly, sounding very much like a patient instructor, his fingers closing in a grip around the apex of Elijah's neck and shoulder, squeezing and letting his fingernails press hard enough to be felt. Elijah shuddered and let out a slow, staggered exhale.

"You game?"

Elijah opened his eyes; the flush over Billy's cheeks and forehead drew his attention, along with the reddish light of the room, the sudden oppressive heat on his skin, and the heavy pulse of his cock inside his jeans. All he could do was nod.

Billy smiled and Elijah swore that his eyes were dark green for just a second before he turned and disappeared into the front hallway. By the time he came back, Elijah had debated getting up and leaving five times over, but his body wasn't listening.

He moved to shift over on the couch to make room for Billy—but wasn't sure if that's what Billy wanted, so he paused, looking stupid no doubt, and cleared his throat. Billy chuckled and from his hand let loose a roll of black silk that unfurled and hung down in front of Elijah's face.

Elijah looked up into Billy's eyes; green and blue clashing hotly around the black-red-brown that was the background combination of the light and the heat and subdued feeling there in the room. He took a slow breath and sat up, putting his hands on Billy's shirt, wrapping his fingers around cloth and giving a low tug. 

_Kiss me_.

Billy leaned down and took Elijah's jaw in his free hand, tilting the boy's face up further, obsessing over the way the pink of his lips smudged neatly into the cream color of the surrounding skin just before he pressed his mouth to that bottom lip, the tip of his tongue darting out to pat the fullness as he closed the kiss in a low suckle, drawing the lip forward between his.

He pulled away and Elijah shuddered, body teetering forward in an attempt to keep that going, because it had been barely a kiss and already his heart was pounding. He felt Billy's free hand slide through his hairline just above his forehead and smooth his hair back; and then he felt the silky tickle of the blindfold just before it closed over his eyes; a small but sure knot cinched it at the back.

Even though the blindfold was enough, he kept his eyes closed. 

"Like that," Billy breathed, voice glazed over with rising arousal, and guided Elijah to lean back where he sat, hips sinking farther towards the edge of the cushions while he hunkered down into them.

The black of the blindfold was so much like that black behind his eyelids that Elijah couldn't miss the similarity. And yet it was much more, because he couldn't stop the darkness just by opening his eyes, and the black was full of the fuzzy shapes of the room instead of the colors behind eyelids.

Billy kneeled on the floor between Elijah's feet, bracing his weight on the couch cushions as he leaned forward over Elijah's body, cupping a barely part-mouthed kiss on Elijah's top lip this time. And in that groping blindness Elijah could feel every shape offered by Billy's mouth—every drag of moisture seemed more obvious, held more potential. 

Billy's tongue was slow and soft, teasing corners and edges with an efficiency that send Elijah's blood tripping to keep up with it—every tiny lick and plunge was an imitation of some more intimate act, transforming kisses into promises and previews, sending images of penetration and slow thrusting through Elijah's head.

All he had was those images, being denied the actual sight, and the slow building reality that he had no control whatsoever over what happened next made the blood flood his cock until he thought he couldn't get any harder.

When Billy pulled away, Elijah whimpered in protest, writhing off the couch, but found that Billy's weight was enough to keep him still. He sighed and squirmed into the stomach that lay over his pelvis.

"It's about slow," Billy whispered against his mouth, the Scottish accent playing with the vowels until they curled knots through Elijah's thoughts, the rush of warm breath making Elijah's cheeks tingle. "About...letting it go over you like steam..." Fingertips tripped down the front of Elijah's shirt, freeing buttons one by one as Billy's mouth tickled down his jaw.

Elijah tilted his head back, the world shifting shape and form under the blindfold, the breath rushing from his nostrils as Billy bit down on the side of his neck—" _Ahhhnn_!"—sharp awareness flooded him without restrain, because he hadn't known the bite was coming, and the sudden shift of texture from lips and tongue to hard teeth pounded his belly.

Hot fingertips reached the end of a trail of buttons and gently shifted cloth aside, tapering a whispered path up the center of Elijah's stomach and chest, which was heaving unsteadily. Billy bit down again, on his shoulder this time as the cloth there slipped off, and Elijah groaned again, arched up, thighs desperately seeking something solid to clamp around, cock aching for release from its denim prison.

Billy's weight was delicious and the images of what was happening thrummed through Elijah like a second heartbeat, pushing along the fantasy even as the act itself was happening. Billy suckled slow kisses along Elijah's shoulder and Elijah found that the whimpers wouldn't stop coming; if he didn't make noise, he would explode.

The wet, subtle smack-slip of these kisses continued down Elijah's collarbone and without realizing it he had wrapped his hand around the back of Billy's neck, clinging to the hot skin there. And then the mouth climbed northward again, biting and kissing, until it nestled hot secrets right into the fleshy hollow of Elijah's throat, where all the breathing and noise was.

It tied them together, this closeness where all that happened, and Elijah felt the trembling wash his legs, felt his calves digging into Billy's hips. He didn't want to beg but he was very nearly there as Billy's hands smoothed slow caresses over his chest, sparing time around his nipples, pinching and bringing sharp painful rushes of deliciousness into them. 

Billy's fingers trailed down his arms, stripping the last bits of clinging shirt with the motion, and Elijah's hands curled eagerly around Billy's, dying for any sense of what they were doing. 

Billy brought Elijah's hand up tucked in his, turned it over, and spread the fingers. He pressed a hot kiss to the very center of Elijah's palm—and the sensation rip-tided through Elijah, shot straight to his cock and brought up a sharp, singular moan into his throat. Billy grinned against the skin there, his tongue playing slow circles, licking flicking and then closing his teeth on the fleshy bottoms of Elijah's palms. Elijah shuddered for what seemed like the millionth time and tried to catch his breath; the feeling lingered in his palm—down his wrist—down his arm—down his body even after Billy had moved on.

Couldn't get any more torturous than that, Elijah thought, and was immediately proved wrong when Billy took one of his fingers into his mouth in one smooth swallow. Elijah's hips jerked off the couch, pushing Billy's weight, wanting to sink into the floor and away from the velvety softness of the inside of Billy's mouth.

The rock-hard swell in his jeans had long since left a blatant damp spot in the front; darker blue against dark blue, embarrassing but somehow painfully erotic to Billy, who could sit back on his knees as he sucked Elijah's fingers off one by one and watch the bulge twitch.

But he was relentless; and he proved that again and again, kissing his way over Elijah's chest to repeat the entire performance to his other wrist and hand. By the time he was through with that Elijah was moaning and lost, the muscles of his face tight and strained, salty beads of sweat trickling down his temples.

He kissed Elijah again, and found the boy's mouth hot and quick, set on devouring his, hungrily clamping down and suckling his tongue, lashing out for more with every pass, biting at his lips and whimpering a hum out after each time Billy paused. _More_.

"Feel it?" he whispered between kissed. "You're so fucking hard you can feel the ache in your teeth... Every inch of your body's awake...screamin'...because you can't see...you can't know..." 

He rubbed their bodies together, felt Elijah's legs immediately clamp around his waist, felt the awareness of Elijah's arousal pinned hot against his shirt. "And you're thinkin' ahead, because you can't focus on the image, think about coming, thinking about what I'm gonna to do, thinking about what it might feel like the first time I close my hand and squeeze...or the first time I push into you..."

Elijah was panting, nodding blindly to the soft calls, so very close to thrashing that it was too much. And when he felt Billy's fingertips on the button of his jeans, he let out a sob, and tightened a clenched fist around the throw pillow he had been squeezing the life out of for the better part of an hour.

The jeans were gone quickly enough; and then Billy's kisses layered again, swallowing up and not giving back any of Elijah's breath as their bodies ground together. His restraint threatened to crumble when Billy's palm flattened and then curled around the shape of his cloth-covered erection.

"You smell like sex," Billy growled softly into Elijah's ear. "And you c'n smell that, too, can't you, because you're not able ta see it. Can't see how red you are, how hard, sprung so fast—" And Elijah couldn't heard anymore because of the roaring of his blood through his ears as Billy's fingertips pressed the damp spot at the front of his boxers.

"Please," he sighed, which was the first coherent word he'd uttered in hours and Billy grinned at hearing it, fingers deftly finding their way through the cloth slit of the boxers and teasing the flat of his palm down over the hot, insistent flesh. " _Billy_."

"Now you'll le' it go," Billy went on, his fingers meshing with the sticky mess in Elijah's boxers, practically petting the swollen length— _slip close press slide press squeeze_. "And that'll feel better...you can scream and cry into the dark and it doesn't touch you..."

By the time Billy went silent he was kneeled down between Elijah's thighs again, picking the sticky cotton from Elijah's body, pushing it down just enough to allow it to be kicked aside. 

Inhaling, he raked Elijah with his eyes; the boy was all soft planes, mixture of youth and manly shape, flushed red from the chest up but still fair, sweat teasing here and there, hair sprinkled from point to point. The black silk made the pale skin around it glow—the highlight of red across his cheeks and nose burned brightly against the dark cloth.

Elijah's cock stood erect and begging, weeping pearl-colored drops whenever Billy's hand even came near to firmly touching it, his balls swollen and tight just under Billy's fingers. Taking his time, Billy smoothed a hand all around Elijah's belly, pressing the quivering flesh there, soaking up desperation through his palms—more savory than any liquor.

He did this until some of the desperation ebbed, until Elijah stopped blatantly shaking and moaning and uttering _please_ under his breath.

"Better?"

"Mmm."

Billy grinned, wrapping his thumb and fingers around the base of Elijah's cock and squeezing upwards—slow, hard, once, and closing just at the end around the tip with an extra twist.

Elijah's bottom lip fell and his pelvis rose off the couch, chest filling with a sharp inhalation of breath. " _OhGod_..." It would take all of five strokes like that to make him explode; the ache in his balls was spreading lack of control through his body, cinching ribbons of barbed heat around his stomach.

The musky scent of Elijah's arousal rose from his skin, smeared by the generous lubricant his body provided, slick and shimmering in the low light in front of Billy's eyes as he swirled his hand back down in the opposite direction and then brought it back up again, each time teasing a long, desperate moan from Elijah's throat.

" _B-Bill-y-y_..."

Billy didn't answer but paused instead, twisting a delicious cup of his first three fingers hard around the tip of Elijah's cock.

" _Fuck_!"

"Mm?"

"If you keep—" Another hard succession of full-length jerks, most pressure applied to the underside and top and then brought together over the head, squeezed so deliciously to milk further come from that slit. " _OhmyGodIcan't_ —" Pause; pant; squirm; the heat making him want to die, the pressure giving him reason to live.

"Think you get it now?" So strange, that statement, that sort of question, played over the background noise of a wet, slippery hand pumping relentlessly around Elijah's cock; a blur of golden brown to Billy's eye as he refused to pause.

"Ummm!"

"Yes?"

"Aghhnn—yes, Billy, holy fuc—oh my God... Don't stop..." 

"You're so close—"

"Yes—"

"You can feel it, coiling, fucking hurts almost, doesn't it, and if I pull just harder—"

"Billy—"

"—like that, just there—"

" _Mmmm_..."

Billy stopped; pleased to hear the single sob of desperation tumble from Elijah's chest before he fisted his palm around the first few inches of Elijah's flushed cock. He stared—Elijah's whole body prone and drawn tight, hovering above the cushions, hands doing further unknown damage to the throw cushion in his fingers. Flush of red now thinly coating his whole body—with a thick stripe over his neck, shoulders, and face.

"When you come, you'll feel it deeper than you've ever felt it, down to your fucking—"

" _Oh God_!"

"—tha's right. Come for me. Come for me, Elijah..."

"Nnnggghh!"

There was a long pause in which Elijah's chest froze completely, his legs tensed up around Billy's waist, and a beat of silence so thick and palpably hot settled that there was no mistake Elijah was obliging the request. 

He cried out when the tension exploded, the sound bouncing of the silent walls and carrying all the hours of his frustration with it; his cock flushed and pulsed between Billy's damp fingers, adding to that dampness as Billy milked him slow and hard, the rush coming over and over so many times that he lost count.

He was unaware of his body for about thirty seconds. When he managed to realize he was still alive, he opened his eyes. His pulse was still pounding loudly through him, seeming more connected to his veins than his heart. He was reeking heat—letting it off like a glow—and he was completely drained, sure he wouldn't be doing any sort of physical movement for at least a week.

He was only dimly aware of Billy cleaning the mess with a towel, of Billy sliding up onto the couch next to him, of Billy's fingers going for the knot on the blindfold. Elijah felt the silly urge to tell him to leave it on. But it was gone before he could muster the strength or thought to form words.

The light of the room—which wasn't much at all—was still too much for all the hours he'd spent in the dark. He squinted against it, opened his eyes gradually, and rubbed them with his knuckles.

A hand lay lightly on his stomach and a mouth was offered up immediately; Elijah accepted gratefully, relieved to have a distraction from the realization that he was very naked and very spent on a couch with someone who was entirely dressed.

Billy's fingers smoothed back the damp, flattened hair that had been caught under the blindfold. He pressed his thumbs to the skin around Elijah's eyes and temple. His eyes were very dark when they pulled apart. Elijah nudged his mouth to Billy's again, placing one hand over Billy's that rested on his stomach.

"Ye've got amazing eyes, Elijah Wood. But sometimes it's fun to play without them."

Elijah grinned and waggled his eyebrows, some of his humor flooding back on a wave of recovery. With his free hand he snatched up the fallen blindfold, dangling it between them.

"You may have to go on convincing me."

Billy laughed, his face falling onto Elijah's shoulder. When he sat up again, he reclaimed the length of cloth, and gave Elijah a determined stare.


End file.
